


The Last Resort

by gladheonsleeps



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, No Incest, Porn With Plot, Ritual Magic, Sex Magic, Sorry Not Sorry, Soulmates, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Time Travel, a lot of fudging of magical world building, interrupted sexual assault, liberal use of deus ex machina, precious Orion Black, sex ritual, things are weird in the Black family but not THAT weird, we needed the fuck to happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:49:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26494390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladheonsleeps/pseuds/gladheonsleeps
Summary: porn with a little plot. in a world where Sirius lives and there is a portrait of Regulus Black in the Library of Grimmauld place and where things go so wrong that nearly all hope is lost, Hermione goes back in time with a sex ritual they find in the Black Family Grimoire.basically, Hermione and Regulus fuck.very canon non compliant.
Relationships: Orion Black/Hermione Granger, Regulus Black/Hermione Granger, Sirius Black & Hermione Granger
Comments: 22
Kudos: 149





	The Last Resort

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Arx Domus Nigrae](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/685003) by MaryRoyale. 



> there isn't anywhere near enough Regulus/Hermione smut in the world so I'm not sorry 
> 
> this one is a bit abstract. just go with the flow and you'll be swept along with the current hopefully
> 
> this work is very vaguely inspired in spirit by Arx Domus Nigrae by MaryRoyale on ffnet. that story is awesome and you should read it in the unlikely event that you haven't.

She should have known it would be like nothing else she'd experienced; and in a way she had. but it was hard to really _know_ not knowing...and how could one expect _this_? 

She'd had brushes of it of course, over the last few months; glimpses of the sublime. She'd even heard it described as ‘seeing stars’. But as soon as the orgasm hit, and her eyes fluttered shut seemingly in slow motion. her body bowed with pleasure, and she was flying; whether she truly travelled through the ether on a starry night, or plunged through a pitch black body of water filled with a bioluminescent _something;_ or neither, and she had entered into something wholly _other_...she now knew for certain that Black Family Magic was unlike anything anyone outside of the family could dream of. 

She'd been told so many times during the planning stages that the House of Black would be eternally thankful for her aid, but she felt in that moment that it was _she_ who was breathtakingly grateful to experience something so sublime, something so...so _magical_. 

She seemed to soar backwards, driven through time for what felt like an eternity, before she landed with a spill on silk sheets; her senses coming back to her all at once, and her eyes fluttered open to see stormy grey eyes only slightly different to the ones of the man she had just left behind. 

Despite the wand poking into her throat reflexively by a very dangerous man who’d been startled out of his sleep, she took the time to take in the gorgeous sight of a sleep tousled Regulus Black leaning over her. She especially enjoyed the rising blush on his cheeks, and the open lips as he took in the sight of her in nought but her ritual tattoos and a gossamer-thin slip that hid absolutely nothing in the flickering light of the fire that warmed his bedroom. 

A moment later, he seemed to realise precisely what the glittering golden runes written all over her skin meant, and he snatched his wand away and gasped, “Priestess…you're here...you're here to _save_ us?” He asked in an awed, reverent tone, and she nodded. He sat back on his haunches on the bed and seemed to wrestle with himself, but as he stared down at the dark mark on his forearm, and then back to herself, he seemed to come to a resolution, just as his portrait said he would in the eventuality that she landed here. “You haven't come far enough; I’ll need to cast it again.” 

Hermione nodded and gave him a soft, sad smile as she felt her heart rending for him. She wondered how long it would be before he went to the horrid ocean cave and died a lonely, wretched death. She leaned forward and cupped his cheek, “I feel I should warn you though,” she said gently, “House elf magic is powerful, but it won't destroy it. We only found that they were adequately destroyed by basilisk venom or fiendfyre,” She was both saddened and relieved to see that he definitely knew what she was referring to. So it would be soon then, “Don't forget the properties of a goblin-made blade. It responds extremely well to the venom. Unfortunately it will be necessary to destroy more than one.” 

He nodded, though he looked absolutely sickened at her words, and she tried to distract him by saying, “Am I ruining things by disrupting this timeline? It wasn't clear on that...” 

He stilled as his brilliant mind was distracted by the puzzle. It had been fun to watch him think in portrait form, but it was even more delicious to watch from up close, in person; especially while he wasn't wearing a shirt. She suppressed the urge to lick her lips, “I don't think so. We can think of it as a backup plan. There was nothing about it in the grimoire; it only said it was possible to recast and how...” 

Hermione raised an eyebrow, “Do you have the whole grimoire memorised or just this ritual?” 

His eyes were deep and solemn when he answered, “I don't think I'm the only one in our family to have found comfort in the possibility of redemption for our House. I don't know when it was that I figured out that something was wrong, but...I've read through it probably a thousand times...I never found anyone who could help us though. May I ask, who sent you? How did you qualify?”

She smiled sadly, “I saved Sirius in my third year using a time-turner and a hippogriff among other things; and then again in the time room of the Department of Mysteries...and then I accidentally saved Bellatrix’s life just after that and...well I can tell you that every time turner holds a lot more of that golden sand than it appears...” her face burned when he looked at her in bewildered disbelief at the last bit, before grasping the greater gist of what she'd said.

“ _Thrice_? How are we so blessed? This is auspicious indeed; please allow me to thank you, Priestess,” His wide eyes and breathy reverence were so adorable Hermione couldn't help herself.

She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips before nibbling at them, making him let out a surprised moan as she soothed her hand through his hair to the back of his neck, and pulled him forward to settle over her as she fell back onto the tousled bed sheets. He came readily, and kissed her deeply for a long moment before he pulled away, panting, “I need to prepare for the rite,” he said, his expression a little dazed. 

She couldn't help pouting a little, and wondered at how much of a hussy she was for being so ready to fuck a man she didn't even know not twenty minutes after she'd lost her virginity to his brother…Well, twenty minutes or twenty years...depending on how one looked at it.

Thankfully Regulus was startlingly efficient, pulling everything necessary from cabinets and shelves in the tidy workroom that was attached to his bedroom. The room was accessed, she was amused to find out, through a very subtle secret panel in the wood panelling on the far wall, which was why they'd never found it during Molly’s rather nightmarish cleaning frenzy during the summer before fifth year. 

He clucked his tongue when she rose to help him, and told her to rest while he worked, as she had travelled far, and would be doing most of the work to travel further still. He said it in such a way that told her he wasn't precisely reluctant to be asked to perform a bout of surprise ritual sex that morning.

Soon enough, the circle was drawn around the bed and the candles and herbs and various sacrifices were arranged appropriately. He disappeared to wash and cleanse himself before he finally stepped back into the circle and closed it behind him, completely naked this time. he stood there awkwardly for a second before she opened her legs a little wider in invitation, and he stepped forward, his Slytherin mask slipping to show how _very_ much he wanted her. 

His body at eighteen was markedly fitter than a post-Azkaban Sirius had been, and she enjoyed the rough broom calluses on his hands, and the feeling of muscles rippling under his skin. He was strong, and he was flexible. Sirius may have been an active man, but Regulus was an athlete, and she enjoyed moving her hands over him; enjoyed the sounds he made as she explored his body. 

He was more than happy to let her, just so long as he was allowed to explore her in return, and the two wound up in a delicious sixty nine position. Of course there was absolutely no need for foreplay for this magic to work, and she was certainly wet enough, her sex dripping at the sight of his perfect cock, but she wanted to take her time with a man she'd become quite enamoured with through his portrait, no matter how sad that sounded. 

She finally got to _touch_ him, to feel his familiar voice vibrate through his chest, and his breath on her skin in a way she hadn't been able to with a shadow of a personality that had been trapped within oil paint and magic. 

However, as limited as her conversations with a painting had been, everything seemed to be a confirmation. His long hair was as soft on her fingers as she had dreamed. His head of hair was thick and curly, but the black strands themselves were fine and like silk under her fingers, and there was so _much_ of it. His fingers were long and fine, an artist’s hands; and she watched them move over her body like he was playing an instrument, sure and confident as he memorised her dips and curves. 

She’d kissed the freckle below his left eye, and bit his pillowed lip like she'd wanted to for almost a year, hearing the little hitch in his breath was more of a reward than all the O grades in the world. 

It was really a bit of a gut punch that he wasn't the member of the Black family that she would end up bound with in order to help save their House, and hopefully Magical Britain along with it. The way he made her feel made her wonder if soulmates were real. In the end she didn't want to know, as she wouldn't be allowed to keep him.

She endeavoured to make a good job of it, thrilling in the weight of his beautiful flushed cock on her tongue, but Regulus kept her so distracted as he consumed her pussy with a level of skill she'd never encountered before, that she was sure her own efforts were not her best work. She'd only sucked off two boys before committing herself to this plan, after all, and Regulus was showing far more experience and skill for being around the same age. It wasn't long before he had her grinding on his face, and he only moaned and wrapped his arms around her thighs so she wouldn't move away. She was so distracted she barely felt the air thickening as she grew closer to orgasm, and it took her longer than it should have to gasp, “—Regulus! stop! we need—Oh shite!—I'll end up not going far enough—” 

He groaned regretfully and released her legs so that she could lift up and roll to the side and squeeze her thighs together to regain control, to prevent a false start. As much as she had been enjoying herself, she couldn't forget the very serious mission she was on; nor the strength of the magic they were playing with. There would be no second chances with this. 

She saw his wide eyes watching her struggle and smiled at him a little dopily, “It's good to see that you apply yourself to every activity Mr Black!”

He huffed a soft laugh, lounging on his side, and she smiled as his shoulders relaxed, “Not _every_ activity. I assure you that there are several that I am far less enthusiastic about,” he said, his eyes sad, “This, however,” he reached out and softly cupped her mons with a lovely long fingered hand, “I am very happy to apply myself to—mmmph—” 

There was something about him that just made her want to spend _hours_ kissing him. He brought his hands up to cup her face, and his fingertips fluttered softly on her cheeks, and he adjusted their angle minutely for better access. 

She wanted to spend _years_ kissing him, but they didn't _have_ years. She met his eyes as she pulled away with a last nibble on his bottom lip, and they were so very sad that she wondered if he felt it too, the _rightness_. 

They both looked down at their bodies while he positioned his cock and pushed into her, both moaning at the sight of them joined. Once he was fully seated he stilled, and they stared at one another for several moments, feeling each other's breath on their faces. 

Then he shifted, and her eyes fluttered closed. 

Despite what Sirius had liked to joke about, Regulus was very, _very_ good at making stars burst behind her eyes. It seemed he wasn't joking when he repeatedly argued with his scandalised brother from his portrait that Seekers were known for hitting the right places every time. He seemed to be the perfect fit for her, and the curve of his cock was making her breath hitch and her legs shake as he stimulated that rough patch inside of her with every pass. He didn't just thrust, but he moved his hips in an undulating rhythm that said a lot for his core strength, and she made sure to be vocal with her praises as he drove her towards a thunderous end. Their bodies moved in symphony, her legs wrapped around his lovely hips, her feet on his delicious bum, letting him know to push harder, though he resisted all her efforts to cause him to rush. She felt her pleasure and the magic building, and clung to him tighter, tears in her eyes, not wanting to let him go. 

He seemed to be of the same sentiment, though his expression and actions showed he was determined to cherish the moment they had, and make it last. 

She never would have thought that the infamous Death Eater Regulus Black would be the type for making love, but that was what she was experiencing. 

All good things must come to an end however, and they inevitably began to lose their rhythm as tension built and so did the magic that would not be denied. She gave him one last, desperate kiss as he spilled inside of her and then she followed him, crashing over the precipice of pleasure before she was ripped away and carried out on a current that was so much like the ocean tide. 

This time it didn't feel like flying at all. She felt the distance between them grow, and her wailing cries seemed stolen away by the magic which felt to her like it was drowning her, punishing her for resisting. 

She knew she had to give him up. This wasn't about her after all, but all of magic. She had a task to do, and it had nothing to do with love or soulmates. 

Finally she landed once again on fine sheets, and she groaned as if in physical pain, already missing him. But then she looked up and like ice water to the face, she was hit with reality. She didn't move quick enough to prevent the imperious from being cast, and she barely heard the order being given, but she acted soon enough to prevent the rape itself. She lashed out with her magic and her rage. She was without a wand, but still had within her some small leftover of the momentum from her travel, and a deep well of emotion. Walburga Black hit the wall of the master bedroom in Grimmauld Place with an alarming crack, and there was red on the wall as her body crumbled to the ground, but Hermione didn't care; she wasn't even looking. 

She was a priestess of time, and she was bound to the Black family. She would not allow the House to be harmed. It was no matter that Walburga professed to be making it stronger; all who knew anything about the legacy of the House of Black knew that was a false profession from poison lips. 

Hermione took enough time to make sure the witch was bound, and that the house’s ward matrix would keep her out of the way, before she rushed over to a naked and shaking Orion. The imperious had been broken, and now he just stared at her, tears on his face. He whispered “Thank you,” and gasped as she kissed him gently. 

She stroked his face, and touched his cheeks, and hair softly, crooning encouragements and assurances. Eventually she encouraged him to move off the chair he'd been tied to, rubbing his limbs to allow his blood to flow better. 

She took his hand and led him from the room, locking the door behind them with the authority she owned, and leading him gently to his bedroom. 

When he was wrapped up in a soft and warm dressing gown and sipping from a cup of hot chocolate that an impossibly young looking Kreature had fetched for him, he gave her his first smile, and she melted. They may not be soulmates, but Orion Black was absolutely adorable, and she found herself extremely attached. 

She knew that was a smile she would kill for, and possibly already had. After all, head injuries like that really did need to be attended to with as much haste as possible. Even with that in mind, she remained in Orion’s room, and encouraged him to question her, to slyly explore her, allowing him to finally begin to hope. 

They would have a lot of work to do to make sure Magical Britain survived; not the least of which was to curbing Dumbledore's puritan influence and excessive censorship, and of course dealing with Old Mort. But that could begin tomorrow.

They ate the feast that Kreature pressed on them so happily, high on the wave of cosmic magic that had swept in with his new mistress. Hermione needed calories after two trips through time, and Orion needed them after his trying afternoon—and well, his entire first marriage—and then they enjoyed a bath together, and curled up in his bed, with Hermione all but wrapping Orion up in her limbs, pillowing his head on her breast. There, they drifted off to sleep, neither remembering to go back to deal with the witch who they had left in the other bedroom. 

///

The light was thin and the air fresh when a golden light filled the bedroom, and another young man with pale skin, grey eyes, Black hair and Macmillan eyebrows appeared. He looked around himself with wide eyes until they landed on the young woman in the bed with his father’s head resting on the lovely chest he'd enjoyed licking not all that long ago. Regulus had no idea what kind of magic had allowed him to actually follow after the beautiful Priestess of Time when they'd done everything correctly as far as he knew; but he chose to look at it as a gift from Magic and shrugged, quietly climbing into bed from the other side to his very young father, pulling her warm body into his, so that she was sandwiched safely between Blacks. 

He was almost asleep when he caught sight of his left arm in the morning light and gasped quietly. 

It was bare, but for a few familiar moles and freckles.

For the first time in two years, his magic wasn't tied up in a stranglehold of another’s control. He was free, and in the presence of a woman he had despaired of ever seeing again. 

He kissed the pretty priestess’ neck and shoulder blade, enjoying the sound of approval she made in her sleep. It was adorable.

He knew they had a future to save; the rite _was_ a last resort after all. But right now it felt like an absolute privilege, and one he was determined not to waste. He felt between the three of them, they had an excellent chance of succeeding. 

  
  


fin 


End file.
